


Resonance

by Crystalshard



Series: Shoot to Thrill [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Cara is both awesome and scary, Cave-In, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, New Relationship, Raga hits Paz over the head and carries him off like a caveman, earthquake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalshard/pseuds/Crystalshard
Summary: Cara's presence in the Covert finally drives Paz to reveal how he feels about Raga. But when there's a sudden earthquake and Raga is trapped, will Paz and Cara be able to work together to free her?
Relationships: Cara Dune/Paz Vizla/Raga (Family & Home), Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Paz Vizla/Raga (Family and Home)
Series: Shoot to Thrill [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665031
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	Resonance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/gifts).



> Inspired (and encouraged) by Lady Irina, who wrote the magnificent series The Mandalorian, his son and the Storm Trooper . Go read it, do.

The child squeaked, wobbled, and fell over onto its rear. It looked more surprised than hurt, and cooed gratefully at the gloved hands that gently picked it up. 

"You nearly had it," Raga reassured, kneeling down next to the little one. The other young children, who had held their places in the training room, called out agreement and encouragement in turn, making Raga smile under the helmet that shielded her expression. They were good kids at heart, all of them. Every one of them would be a worthy warrior, whether Foundling or born to the Creed. "There we go. Ciena, could you please show our littlest warrior that stance again? Good, yes, see? One foot turned outwards like this, one foot facing forward, shoulder width apart." 

Eyes narrowing in concentration, the baby shifted its tiny clawed feet to match Ciena's pose. The children burst into cheers, and the child's pointy green ears perked up in joy. 

Raga hid her burst of pride and nodded, rising to her feet and returning to her place in front of the class. "Well done. Okay, everybody, back to the beginning. Solus. T'ad. Ehn . . ." 

As the youngsters moved in concert to her counting, Raga's eyes were caught by a tall Mandalorian in battered blue armor leaning against the door frame. The light glinted off the bullet pocks in the figure's helmet as he nodded to her. 

"Good. Atuas, run everyone through the stances another three times. These should be automatic to all of you." Raga drifted over to the other Mandalorian, her eyes watching the foundlings for any misstep that might need further teaching. Her voice lowered so that only the other warrior could hear her. "Here to help, Paz, or here to interrupt their training?" 

Paz's voice was just as quiet. "Neither. Just wanted to let you know that our troublemaker and his riduur are, uh, _unpacking_ right now. You might need to keep an eye on their kid for a while longer." 

Raga huffed a laugh. "At least someone around here is getting some. Good. I think we can give them some privacy for a while." 

Paz's T-visor snapped from facing the foundlings to aiming directly at Raga. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Raga turned her own head to look directly at where his eyes should be, tilting her head in puzzlement. Paz was touchy, yes, but not often over something as unimportant as who was sharing space with whom. "Whatever you want it to mean? If you'll excuse me, these children will not wait." 

She strode away to resume her place. When Raga looked back at the doorway, Paz was gone. 

* * * 

The social room was crowded that night. While Mandalorians liked to eat in privacy, they were more than happy to drink with the rest of the tribe. The cooling units scattered around the edges of the large room held different liquid refreshments, from the hard punch of tihaar and the deceptive strength of Mando Papuur'gal to regular ale and even some non-alcoholic options for those who preferred them. 

It wasn't often that food was served there, but tonight Raga was doing her best to feed the child. With it seated in her lap, the challenge was less in encouraging it to eat and more in trying to prevent it choking with how fast it consumed the spicy casserole. 

"Do you think he's going to want another bowl?" 

Raga glanced up as Paz hovered over the two of them. "Maybe. He is very hungry. And sit down, you're blocking the light." 

Obediently, Paz sat next to her. "Kids are always hungry. Have you - I mean, I'd have thought - you interact with the kids so much, I . . ." 

Raga translated the babbling with the ease of long practice, and slapped Paz in the pauldron to get him to stop talking. "No, I've never raised a foundling. Looked after one or two children when their parents needed the help, but not enough to know what's normal." 

With a noisy slurp, the baby drained the last of the stew, produced an astonishingly loud burp, then cuddled into Raga's arms and appeared to go to sleep. Raga looked down, astonished and pleased, and gingerly tried to adjust her grip to make it more comfortable. 

"Here." Paz's hands were surprisingly careful on her arms as he adjusted her posture into one better suited for holding a young child. Raga had seen Paz destroy with those fists, had seen (and felt) his pile-driver punch during sparring matches, had seen him hold weapons far more often than babies. And yet, here he was, his fingers exerting pressure so lightly that he wouldn't crack an egg. 

Raga tilted her helmet at Paz as he sat back down. "Thank you," she said slowly, not sure what to make of the gesture. 

Paz simply shrugged, then turned and looked up and waved. Raga followed Paz's line of sight and spotted Din and Corin, both looking considerably more rested. There was a contented smile on Corin's face that Raga hadn't seen often, some of the ex-Stormtrooper's ever-present worry wiped away. 

The two made their way over, and Raga gladly surrendered the little one to Din as he and Corin seated themselves on the couch opposite her and Paz. Even with Paz's help, she'd been afraid she would drop it. She noted, with a feeling that she identified as unexpected envy, that Din seemed to know exactly how to hold the child. 

"Ha! Troublemaker!" Paz said gleefully, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping baby. "Tell me, what kind of destruction have you and your kar'ta been leaving in your wake this time?" 

Raga watched Corin's face, and was once again surprised. She'd expected confusion, maybe embarrassment, possibly even a stuttering outpouring of denial if Corin had learned what the word meant. Instead, Corin huffed and twined his fingers into those of Din's unoccupied hand. "Ne'johaa, di'kut," Corin said easily. 

Raga was suddenly very, very glad of the protection of her helmet as she choked back a laugh. Paz's body language betrayed utter bewilderment in a way that she hadn't seen since they were children together. How long had it been since someone told the big lug to shut up? She couldn't even remember. 

Din cleared his throat with a hint of suppressed mirth. "Cara came with us. She had business of her own up above, but she said she'd be here after sunset." 

"And here I am." The former shock trooper grinned at them from behind Corin's shoulder, swinging a lazy leg over the back of the couch and sitting down on the arm rest. "Please tell me you have something to drink around here." 

Paz made a peculiar gurgling sound, glanced from Cara to Raga to Cara again, and scrambled to his feet. "Sure. Ale, or something stronger?" 

Cara chuckled. "I've seen what you guys drink. Ale will do fine." 

Paz nodded quickly, then nearly ran in the direction of the nearest ale cooler. 

Raga let her smile flow into her words as she assessed Cara with an expert's eye, noting the solid muscles and the easy movement of someone confident in her own body. "I'm impressed. Cara, right? I haven't seen Paz that awkward for a while." 

Cara's smile sharpened. "Does he not know how to deal with strong women?"

"Sure. He treats them like any other Mandalorian." Raga let a laugh of her own escape. "He probably just doesn't know what to do about a non-Mandalorian warrior." 

"Huh." Cara seemed to turn that over in her head for a moment, then looked up with challenge in those dark eyes. "And do you?" 

"I've met a few," Raga drawled, grinning as she leaned back into the couch's padding. 

Cara's eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth only to be interrupted by Paz's arrival. He'd apparently forgotten how many people wanted beer, because he'd brought at least half a dozen bottles, clutched in his arms like a gleaming life raft. 

Raga took pity on him and stood up to deftly relieve Paz of his burden, distributing bottles to each of the adults. The three Mandalorians plucked metal straws from the cup in the middle of the table and slid them into the open necks of the bottles, the other end of the straw extending up under their helmets. 

Corin had evidently seen this before, but Cara was openly fascinated. "Huh. Guess that makes sense," she opined. "Never met a soldier who didn't want a drink at the end of the day. Well, maybe except this one." She kicked at Corin's knee. 

Corin swatted her foot away with a half-hearted 'ow'. "I drink!" he protested. "Remember that bar on Nevarro?" 

Cara waved her ale in an 'okay, point taken' gesture. "Fair. Guess you haven't had much opportunity to catch up." 

Paz shifted next to Raga, and she was abruptly aware that he was sitting much closer than he had been before. Her instincts were caught between the urge to push him way and the urge to snuggle closer the way she had as a child, close enough that she'd be able to smell Paz if it wasn't for the air filters in her helmet. She sucked in a breath, then tried to turn her attention back to the conversation. 

". . . black market bread spiked with Spice. Looked like a semi-legal operation from the outside, smuggling necessities on-world, until Cara figured out what the extra ingredient was." Corin nodded to the woman perched beside him. 

"Seen something similar before," Cara contributed. "Growing up on a peaceful planet doesn't mean that there isn't crime." 

"You've come a long way since those days," Raga purred, leaning forward to set her half-empty bottle on the table. "I for one am glad things brought you here." 

There was a speculative look in Cara's eye, and she passed her own drink to Corin without taking her eyes off Raga. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I was upset about being here." 

Raga hadn't expected Paz to explode to his feet again. Nor had she expected the words he growled at Cara. _"Back off."_

Raga straightened her back as her mood switched from playful to _pissed_. "And what business is it of yours, Paz?" she growled, rising to her feet. His familiar height and bulk impressed her not at all. "You have no say in my life or my choices. In fact, you never say anything!" 

Distantly, Raga was aware that the rising volume between her and Paz had woken the child, but its whimper seemed to belong to another plane of existence. Other Mandalorians were looking at them, and right now she didn't care. 

"What was I supposed to say?" Paz roared. "Tell me that, Raga!" 

"You," Raga said icily, precisely, "were supposed to be as brave away from the battlefield as you are on it. Gar kar'ta. Gar jorad." 

"And you? What prevented you from saying anything?" Paz stepped closer, putting them nearly chest to chest. 

Raga gasped in fury, reaching up to grab Paz's breastplate. Her fingers dug in harshly between Beskar and clothed skin. "Because you never said anything! Because you never treated me as anything but your childhood friend! Because until this ridiculous display of jealousy, _I didn't know!_ " 

Paz hesitated. It was enough for Raga to jerk his torso forward, bringing Paz's head into punching range, letting her deliver a hit that made his helmet ring. His knees sagged, his weight collapsing onto her, and Raga briskly shoved her shoulder into his stomach. Paz folded neatly over, and she picked him up with a grunt of effort. The big guy was just as heavy as she'd expected, but the anger still fuelling her eased the burden. 

The other Mandalorian cleared her path as she strode towards the exit with a semiconscious heavy gunner draped over her shoulder. 

* * *

Silence reigned for a moment or two after Raga had disappeared, broken with a quiet chuckle that led to a faint susurrus of returning conversation. 

Corin glanced up at Cara, who was wearing a reluctantly impressed expression. "Ouch. Yeah, I'm not getting in the middle of that," she said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. Silently, Corin passed her ale back. She drained it in one long swallow, then reached for another. "Hey, Mando. Is that normal for Mandalorian courting?" 

"Not usually," Din said, sounding as stunned as Corin felt. "But Paz has had feelings for Raga for years. This was a long time coming." The Mandalorian sucked air along with the last of his own ale, then stood up and deposited the fussing child in Corin's lap. "Excuse me. I need to go collect my winnings." 

Corin turned his attention to the child, soothing it down with familiar words and touches. Only once it had settled did he feel Cara tap him with her new bottle. "Yeah?" 

"You're the one learning Mandalorian. What did it mean, what Raga said to him?" 

Corin smiled at the association the first two words had for him. "Gar kar'ta means 'your heart'. Gar jorad is, um, hold on." He searched his memory of the translator tablet. "Oh, that's it. Gar jorad is 'your voice'." 

"So, she was telling him to be a big boy and use his words?" 

Corin chuckled. "Pretty much." 

* * * 

Corin watched the child toddle happily into the middle of the pile of young children. One of them picked up the kid and settled him on her lap without taking her eyes off Barthor's lesson on the various zones of the galaxy, and Corin wondered if perhaps he should join in. Despite Din's best efforts, navigation wasn't coming naturally to him. 

"Let's go," Din murmured in his ear. "She'll be waiting for us." 

Reminded, Corin nodded and picked up the bag at his feet. It was identical to the one Din carried, weighted down with more Imperial-stamped Beskar ingots that they had retrieved from a not-so-abandoned ex-Imperial facility during their latest trip out. There should be plenty there to forge armor for the Foundlings. 

They'd turned down two corridors before Corin heard the hiss of a door sliding open. The heavy step gave away the Mandalorian's identity before Corin could turn to see him. 

"Hey, vod," Paz said, and Corin didn't need to see through the helmet to know the expression that Paz wore. "Morning." 

"Morning, Paz," Din said calmly. "Thanks, by the way. You won me three hand grenades, a blaster, and two whistling birds last night." 

"You're welcome," Paz said cheerfully, in far too good a mood for it to be dampened by brotherly ribbing. 

Raga emerged after Paz, her whole demeanor radiating smugness. "Good morning, boys." 

"Hi," Corin managed.

Din dipped his helmet into a nod. "Raga."

Raga nodded back, then clapped her hand to Paz's back. "Come on. You need to fuel that tank of a body of yours." 

"Yes, Raga," Paz said amenably as Raga piloted him away. 

* * *

When they emerged from the forge, Din tapped Corin on his new cuisse. The gleam of unpainted, freshly-forged Beskar echoed Din's own armor, a bright contrast to the painted and battle-scarred one on Corin's right thigh. "It looks good on you," Din said approvingly. "You know how to get to the Quartermaster?" 

Corin shook his head at Din, exaggerating an eye-roll. "Yes, ner kar'ta. You took me to see him last time, I think I remember the way." 

"All right. I'll see you later." Din tugged Corin into a Keldabe kiss, and Corin wrapped his hand around the back of Din's neck and leaned in hungrily. It was over far too quickly for Corin's taste. 

Still, Corin hadn't been exaggerating. The storage room was easy enough to find, and the Quartermaster equally so. The Mandalorian looked up from the cuirass he was polishing when Corin stepped through the door, setting rag and wax aside as he stood. 

"Ah. Finally here to get some decent boots?" the Quartermaster asked. "Good. Come over here, let me measure your feet." 

Corin smiled at the cranky old man. Well, 'old' was a guess when the man under the helmet was still fighting fit, but the first time they'd met he'd muttered about seeing the Empire rise and fall and that very little surprised him anymore. Slipping his boots off, Corin stepped into the ring on the floor that marked the boundary of the machine that they called the 'tailor' and stayed still as bars of laser light played over him. 

The Quartermaster peered at the numbers. "Hmm. Hmm, yes, I think I have something that will fit you. Stay there." He disappeared into the shelves at the back of the room, various rustling and banging noises suggesting that he was unearthing the boots from a pile of other equipment. 

Then the earth rumbled under Corin's feet, and he instinctively bent his knees to absorb the slow rolls. More things clattered off the shelves and crashed to the ground, and somewhere there was a rattling thud as one of the sets of shelves fell against the wall. The moment the ground stilled, Corin dove into the mess in search of the old man. 

"Ha! Got them!" came a triumphant call. Corin looked down one aisle to see the Mandalorian, leaning against the wall and triumphantly waving a pair of boots. "Out of the way, ad, it'll take more than an earthquake to do me in. Go put these on, they'll need every hand they can get if there's any damage." 

Corin pulled the heavy boots on, turning his steps in the direction of the childrens' room instead. Din would be fine, he could look after himself, but Corin needed to know if their son was safe. 

* * *

As one of the few places that could hold the entire tribe, the Mandalorians had gathered in the social room to share damage reports and share out tasks. Cara found herself there as well when the Mandalorian she'd been arm-wrestling dragged her along. At least he'd told her where they were going - and why - when she'd demanded answers. 

Over on one side of the room, woman in gold armor and a spiky helmet was giving orders in a brisk, calm fashion that reminded Cara of the better sergeants that she'd served under. She'd waved Cara over to where she was now, leaning over a map of the Covert with Din, Corin, and another Mandalorian she didn't know.

"We've had rockfalls here, here, and here," the Mandalorian in yellow armor said. "The one by the water purification plant is significant, we already have people clearing it out. No damage to the machinery, as far as we can tell. One of the back exits is also impassable. The other major incident is here, in this corridor." One gloved finger tapped the map, and Cara looked down to see a looping path with personal quarters situated along both sides. "A section of the roof came down. One of the rooms has been blocked off, we don't know if there was anyone inside." 

"That's Raga's quarters," said a deep, unhappy voice. Paz leaned over Din's shoulder to glare down at the map as if he could clear the debris by will alone. "She went back there for breakfast. We were supposed to meet for sparring practice, but she never turned up." 

"Then we need to clear that rockfall," Yellow Armor said grimly. 

Din nodded. "Those corridors are narrow. Too many people will get in each other's way." 

"And most of them already have their assignments." Yellow Armor tapped their fingers thoughtfully on the map, then pointed at Din and Corin. "You two, see what you can clear without causing any more rockfalls. I'll send people along with support beams as soon as I can. Paz, Cara, do the same on the other side of the fall." 

Cara eyed Paz skeptically. 

* * *

They'd moved exactly two rocks when Cara heaved a sigh, stepped into Paz's space, and prodded him in the Beskar breastplate. "Okay. What's your problem with me?" 

"My problem? My problem is that you shouldn't be here. Corin's Mandokarla, and we know that piece of crazy by now. But you? We don't know you, we don't know why you're here. _He_ trusts you, but that troublemaker's been wrong before." 

"You mean, _you_ don't trust me." Cara could feel her lip curl, and she didn't bother to stop it. "You were fine with me before I started flirting with Raga. Is that it? Are you jealous?" 

Paz growled and seemed to expand before her eyes, but Cara had seen this trick in her days as a shock trooper. Her eyes narrowed, and she slapped him hard in the side of the helmet. Paz deflated as quickly as he'd blown up. "Maybe," he said reluctantly. 

"See, this? This is where my problem with you is. You shouldn't be here helping with the rockfall, you're too wound up in your own emotions. I can't trust that you'll obey orders like that. But, since you're here, we should get the job done. Understood?" She snapped it out a little too hard, echoes of lectures she'd once given green troopers bouncing through the words. 

Paz froze, fists clenching tight as he huffed like a bantha about to charge. Cara didn't back down, waiting out the man while he struggled with himself. 

At length, Paz's hands unclenched and he nodded. "Understood." 

"Good," Cara said briskly. "Then step over here, big guy. I need your muscles." 

* * *

It was slow going. Every time they moved a rock that might be load-bearing, they had to do it inch by inch. Cara gained a new appreciation for Paz's endurance as they worked, quiet but no longer hostile. 

They broke through near the roof after some back-breaking work, clearing a hole big enough to talk to Din and Corin through. "How's it looking on your side, boys?" 

"Not great," Corin said. "We've shoved in as many supports as we can, but there's a slab of stone right near the door. If we try to move it, the ceiling shifts." 

Cara glanced at Paz, who put one hand on the biggest fallen rock he could find and pushed. There was a rumble of shifting stone, and he halted. 

"Whoa! Yeah, that's the one. Not sure what we can do about it." 

"We have to get her out," Paz rumbled. "Is there a clear space on your side? Big enough to push the rock into?" 

"There is." That was Din, as outwardly steady as ever. "Paz, you can see the readouts as clearly as I can. That roof won't hold." 

"I'll hold it." Cara's jaw dropped at the sheer idiotic bravado of Paz's statement. "Cara . . . I need you to go in and get Raga out. Fast." 

Cara opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. The plan was insane, but if Paz could do what he boasted, it would work. "Fast. You got it." 

"Good. Help me push." 

Between the two of them, the slab moved reluctantly, but it moved. Cara shoved it back the last few inches as Paz released the stone and reached up instead. Caught the shifting rock. 

Held. 

The power to Raga's door was gone, but it slid grudgingly aside as Cara applied brute force to the problem. Beyond it, the room was less chaotic than she'd expected - no big piles of rubble, no fires, no dust hanging in the air. Any dust that has risen had settled in a fine powdery layer over Raga's minimal furniture. 

A set of red-gray armor unfolded from the lone chair in the room. "Took you long enough."

Cara laughed, partly in relief, and partly in the audacity of the statement. No wonder she and Paz were a good match. "Come on. Paz is pretending to be a support beam while you get out of here." 

"Sounds like Paz." Raga stood, snatched a pendant hung on a woven leather thong, and limped towards Cara. Cara slid herself under Raga's arm without hesitation, taking the weight and helping her out of the door. They squeezed past Paz's bulk, getting well out of the way of any potential falling debris. 

"Get out of the way!" Paz yelled to Din and Corin. "As soon as I move, this roof is coming down!" 

Two sets of running footsteps told Cara that Din and Corin had heard and believed Paz's warning. "Clear!" Corin shouted back, the sound dimmed from the distance. 

Paz bent his knees and let go. 

Cara didn't see what happened next, as she buried her face in her shirt to protect herself from the dust that puffed up and filled the corridor with fog, but she could hear it. The crash and thunder of stone, the rapid boom of Paz's feet, the panting as the big Mandalorian came to a stop in front of Cara and Raga. 

"Show-off," Raga said mildly. 

Cara cautiously uncovered one eye, then risked the other one. Her nose and mouth, however, stayed firmly shielded. 

Paz laughed, a deep bark of noise, and scooped Raga up in arms that trembled slightly. "You're going to the medic. You too, Cara. You might have inhaled something." 

Cara decided that Raga had the right idea, and thumped him gently in the side. Just because some people had air-filtering helmets, it didn't mean they were superior. "Show-off." 

* * *

It took three days for everything to be repaired. The filtration plant had suffered damage after all, but the repairs hadn't required a specialist. Good luck there, Corin decided. The back exit had been cleared with no problem. Raga's quarters were still unlivable, but since she was sharing with Paz that wasn't much of an issue. 

Corin hoisted the child a little higher in his arms, nuzzling at its fuzzy head and smiling when it decided to bestow a kov'nyn on him. With the work he and Din had been doing, they'd barely seen the child except when they returned to their room to sleep, and Corin had missed the kid desperately. 

Beside him, Din reached out to stroke the little one's ears, head tilted affectionately. The child cooed, and Corin was about to suggest that they find it some lunch when the sound of a battle royale echoed down the newly reinforced corridor. The child's ears perked up. 

The sound was coming from the training room. That probably meant that there was no actual murder taking place, but it was probably worth the time to check anyway, right? Din seemed to be thinking the same thing and so together, they approached, peering around the edges of the door. 

In the middle of the room, two figures were engaged in a no-holds-barred throwdown. Cara's head snapped aside as Raga landed a solid punch, and then Cara used the imparted momentum to slam a side-kick into Raga's stomach. Cara was grinning wildly, and they could hear Raga's laughter as she stumbled back. 

Cara was on Raga in moments, shoving her down to the floor, but Raga grabbed Cara's leg and pulled her off balance, rolling to put them chest to chest on the ground. 

A strangled noise drew Corin's attention to the third spectator. Paz was seated on one of the benches at the side of the room, back hunched, arms crossed over his lap, and his hands in tight fists. 

Exchanging a glance with Din, Corin stepped back as silently as he could. This was clearly a private matter. 

* * *

The child giggled as it broke into something approaching a run down the corridor, and Corin watched with a smile as passing Mandalorians patiently moved out of its way. He and Din could catch up at their own pace - whoever was cooking breakfast today would see to it that the child was fed. 

A door hissed open, and Corin glanced over to see Paz stagger out on wobbly knees. "Hey," Paz managed, a jaw-cracking yawn emerging from under his helmet. 

Shaking his head, Din moved to turn the exhausted man around. "Go get some more sleep," Din ordered. "I'll bring you some food later." 

"Mm-hm," Paz agreed, nearly stumbling over Raga as she emerged from the room. 

Raga caught Paz before he could fall and inclined her head to Din in gratitude. "Thank you. We'll need enough for four." 

"Four?" Corin asked before he could stop himself. 

A third person emerged from Paz's room, and Corin's jaw dropped when he saw the familiar smirk of Cara Dune. "One for her, one for me, and two for this guy here," Cara said, amusement lacing her words. "Turns out that getting in the middle of that? Really works out." She flicked them a casual salute and turned to help Raga with Paz, the door hissing closed behind them. 

Din tried to say something, but all Corin could hear were garbled nonsense syllables.

**Author's Note:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> _Solus. T'ad. Ehn._ \- One. Two. Three.  
>  _riduur_ \- partner, spouse, husband, wife  
>  _tihaar_ \- alcoholic drink, strong clear spirit made from fruit  
>  _Mando Papuur'gal_ \- Mandalorian wine  
>  _kar'ta_ \- heart  
>  _Ne'johaa, di'kut_ \- Shut up, idiot  
>  _Gar kar'ta. Gar jorad._ \- Your heart. Your voice. (i.e. if you feel something, you're the one who has to say something.)  
>  _vod_ \- sibling, brother, sister  
>  _ner kar'ta_ \- my heart  
>  _ad_ \- child, son, daughter  
>  _Mandokarla_ \- having the *right stuff*, showing guts and spirit, the state of being the epitome of Mando virtue  
>  _kov'nyn_ \- head butt, Keldabe kiss
> 
> For those who want to know my soundtrack for this, it's just AC/DC's _You Shook Me All Night Long_ on loop.


End file.
